The Art of Lying
by palomnotral
Summary: So girls are trying to win Kenny over by food. Butters is somehow dragged into all this-- and of course, in the end, true love wins. Kenny x Butters.
1. Gifts

First off:

THIS IS SLASH, mmkay? SLASH. AS IN, GUY X GUY. So, to those who don't like that sort of thing, especially in South Park, shoo.

Pairing: Bunny. That is, Kenny x Butters. I really think this pairing needs more love.

A/N: My first multichaptered fic. Please endure with me.

* * *

It was in seventh grade when Kenny discovered the joys of baking.

All right, so maybe he'd discovered it already, but definitely never like this. There was nothing quite like an extremely hot girl baking lovely, lovely things for you "just because." Simply nothing. It put his two favorite things together in one room: food and hot girls.

Exhibit A: Wendy.

The girl was purple and cute and, as Kenny had often pointed out to an amused Kyle and a tetchy Stan, _very _well-developed. One afternoon, she just came up to him and offered him some brownies she'd made "just because." Kenny didn't really care to know why; all he knew was that it was food, food was good, and therefore, he should take them, which he did.

They were gooey and chocolatey and stuck to his teeth in a simply delicious way. He'd fallen asleep that day dreaming of melted chocolate and Wendy and a kitchen table. They were good dreams. As good, if not better, as the brownies she'd made for him.

Then there was Exhibit B: Red.

She hadn't exactly been beautiful in elementary school. He never paid much attention to her, though sometimes he would catch her throwing certain looks at him, which he always repaid with a shrug and a hidden smile. Summers passed, and seventh grade came, and all of a sudden, she was hot. Tall and tan and thin, the girl possessed a confident aura about her and strutted about the school hallways with boys clamoring for a chance to carry her books.

And so it happened that one afternoon, not very long after his dreams about Wendy and chocolate and inappropriate things, she came up to him with a smile, a toss of silky hair, and a pretty silver box. With a wink, she said she'd made it "especially for him– just because."

It was the second "just because" he'd heard that week, and, while any normal person would find that either suspicious or flattering or both, he was simply too hungry to care. Food was food, and, as he took the box with a muffled "thank you," he was already thinking about how to consume whatever it was raveningly while making it last at least a day. Then he looked at her beaming face and felt a sort of weakness in his stomach that might have been cause by hunger or horniness or both. His gaze slid down, and he discovered it was both.

She'd given him a wonderful chocolate-and-vanilla cake, artistically frosted with brown and white icing and looking, as it generally should, good enough to eat. Which he did, and it tasted as beautiful as it had looked. That night he dreamt of vanilla and icing and Red's moans, and woke up sore and rather happy.

He never thought that two of the girls he'd known almost his entire academic career were to become two of the best bakers he'd come to know in his entire life.

And now we come to Exhibit C, which was something quite different.

First off, it did not concern a hot girl. Rather, it concerned a boy with hair the color of lemons and the temperament of a mango– which, to those who don't quite understand, are sweet and tropically sunny. His name, as I'm sure you already know, was Butters Stotch, which sounds an awful lot like butterscotch, which is sort of a sweet candy, which Butters was not. But Butters was quite sweet, in more ways than one, though I fear I am jumping far too much ahead in the story.

Kenny McCormick did not much care for fruits or butterscotch, which he'd tried when an old Scottish man he'd met gave it to him on his most recent sojourn to Hell. One can then logically assume that he did not much care for Butters. That assumption would be right, in actuality. The two blonds did not interact very often, and when they did, it usually ended with Butters getting exploited one way or the other. It wasn't the fun kind of exploitation either.

So it was a surprise to Kenny when, one afternoon after school, not too long after his dreams of Red and silk and a lot of moaning, Butters came up, looking anxious and clutching a pretty red box. A bewildered Kenny voiced a muffled thanks when Butters pushed the box in his arms.

_Way to break the chain, Butters, _he thought with understandable confusion. After all, once one has been given edible presents by hot girls, one after the other, one almost always expects the next edible present to be presented by another one of the attractive female persuasion– in other words, another hot girl. Certainly not a little short geek. Kenny frowned down at the box.

"Aw, shucks, Kenny, it's all right," Butters said, looking down shyly and smiling. He was that kind of kid. "Aren't you gonna try it?" he asked suddenly when Kenny turned to go.

Actually, Kenny was about to leave as fast as he can to find a private spot where he can consume the red box and whatever was in it without having to share. This was what he had done previously with Wendy and Red. At Butters's question, though, he stopped, pondered, and shrugged. "Whatever," he mumbled and, sitting down on a bench (if you are confused about the setting, please pretend they are in the park), opened the box. Deliciously, it beckoned to him, a box full of prettily arranged fudge cookies.

"Score!" he whooped, and dove right in.

Butters watched as the boy somehow ate his first cookie while keeping his hood tightly on.

"How'd-how'd you like it?" he asked eagerly.

Kenny was still. Slowly, his mouth chewed. He twitched.

Way_ to break the chain_, _Butters, _his mind sobbed._ Not just the chain of unbelievably hot girls, but also the chain of unbelievably delicious desserts._

A wide-eyed Butters rubbed his knuckles together in anxiety as Kenny spit out the offending cookie, vomited, screamed a muffled scream, vomited again, and passed out.

"Oh, hamburgers."

_Bebe's not gonna like this, _thought Butters in consternation and attempted to prop Kenny up. He glanced over at the poor, half-crushed box of fudge cookies and cringed.

Exhibit C was a failure. Or so it seemed.

* * *

Bebe Stevens was a pretty girl. Certainly nothing compared to Wendy's striking looks and Red's newfound tallness and tan-ness and goddess-like beauty, but she was pleasant to look at, with her blonde curls and ready smile. She loved shoes and was good at sewing and Call of Duty and taking charge and –or so she thought– flirting. Sixth grade had taught her new things about boys, and she thought it only prudent to display her knowledge in seventh grade.

However, the one boy she ended up wanting to use it on had her utterly tongue-tied and self-conscious and all the things she thought she would never be after sixth grade. Irony laughed at her, and in her dreams, she wanted to strangle it so much it died and would never again exist to mess with her life again.

_Oh, what's the use. He'll never go for me, _she thought mournfully as she stared at the paper she had been unconsciously cutting up. _Not while girls like Wendy are putting the moves on him._

Her hands started to shake, and she blinked furiously. _Goddamnit. _Since when did any boy have the power to make her cry? Anger rose up, only to be defeated by self-pity, and she collapsed. Anger, however, turned to its back-up, shock, which quickly took over self-pity as the doorbell rang.

_Ah shit. _Bebe blinked back tears and swept away the pieces of paper onto the floor for no reason. She ran to her window and peered down. On the doorstep was a very anxious-looking Butters and what seemed like a comatose orange parka on his back. She gasped.

"Mom! Mom, don't answer the–" And then she remembered that her parents were out on some romantic date, supposedly, and she pressed a hand to her mouth. Really.

And where were her cookies?

* * *

This was actually originally intended to be a oneshot, but somehow, it all spiraled out of control by Exhibit C. ._.


	2. Laurie

Enjoy~

* * *

Butters felt quite as anxious as he looked, and he didn't feel any better when Bebe opened the door, looking as strung-out as he did.

"What did you _do?" _was her first fretful inquiry, and Butters stumbled in his explanation. They'd lain Kenny down on the sofa, Bebe first making sure that his clothes were clean and stain-free. She didn't want her mother bothering her about suspicious stains on the couch.

"U-um, see, I gave him your cookies, like–like you asked, but, uh…"

Anguish rose up in Bebe. "Did he… didn't he like it?"

Butters scratched his neck, looking quite uncomfortable. _Aw, geez._ "I'm really sorry, Bebe. That's… kinda why he's passed out like this."

Bebe stared at him.

"He-he just ate it, and kind of vomited a li'l," admitted Butters. "It was terrible. Poor little kid." He patted the unconscious boy's hood in an almost motherly fashion Bebe found disturbing to watch. "And he also screamed," he added, after a little pause. Best to be honest about these things.

"Oh. I see." Her voice was brittle, and with a dejected sigh, she sat down on the carpeted floor.

"Well, hey," said Butters comfortingly, sitting down besides her. "'Least he didn't die. I heard he dies an awful lot."

Bebe gave a sniffle. "Yeah. That would… that would be terrible."

"Come on," said Butters, seriously alarmed. He didn't like it when people cried in front of him because it often caused him to burst into tears as well. Already he could feel his eyes tearing. "I-I'm sure you'll get him–"

"Oh, Butters, I'm never going to get him, no matter what!" cried Bebe in a startling display of emotion. She hugged her knees and sobbed. In the back of her mind, she knew this wasn't like her. Since when did she cry over a boy?

"Hey, now, don't be like that," said Butters, his voice shaky. He tried to give her a hug but she pushed him away. "Bebe, you're better than that."

"No, I'm not, and I swear, if you say anything more like that, I'm kicking your ass out of here." He shut up, though his eyes swam in tears. Bebe's sobs shook through her body, though after a few moments, it lessened, and she looked up at the ceiling.

"I just– wanted to make him something really– really special, you know?" Butters expressed his sympathetic agreement in a sympathetic nod, afraid to say anything more. She wasn't looking at him, however, and continued on, rather brokenly, "I heard that he was p-poor, and didn't get much food, so I thought, maybe, just maybe, he would notice me if I… made him some. I'm no good at cooking, though, but baking was a bit… easier for me." She buried her head in her arms again. "But it turns out that I suck at it so much my cookies make people vomit!" she sobbed again, her voice muffled.

Butters rubbed his eyes. He remembered yesterday, when Bebe had come up to him looking quite secretive and sly. She had dragged him to her house, where she explained very clearly that she wanted him to give Kenny a box of specially made fudge cookies. He was nonplussed as to why she couldn't just do it herself, but she answered that with a growl and a threat to beat him up. He was also nonplussed as to why she wanted to give Kenny fudge cookies anyway, which she answered with a blush and a threat to beat him up again. And she also stressed, quite clearly and with her fist near his face, that he was not to tell anyone.

He sighed. He wasn't quite sure why Bebe liked Kenny, who barely paid any attention to her. And he wondered what he was doing caught up in the middle of it. Vaguely, he remembered hearing a rumor that Kenny had received other gifts from other girls in the past weeks, and wondered if that had any connection with anything. He didn't know. He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

Seventh grade, as his father had warned him it would be, was so gosh-darn confusing.

* * *

In the end, Bebe clung to Butters' neck and sobbed that she felt that the two of them had become "closer because of this whole ordeal." And because of that, Butters was now following Bebe up to her room. The boy was innocent, and therefore really had no idea what to expect.

He felt pensive. To his timid inquiry about Kenny and what should happen if he were to wake up, Bebe responded with a soft, "The door's not that hard to unlock. He can let himself out." Butters paused, thought about it, felt rather bad, yet still he followed.

"Now," said Bebe once the two of them were in her room with the door locked, "Butters. You're going to learn things in this room you must promise to never, _ever _tell anyone else. _Especially _the girls."

"H-huh? But what about the boys?"

She crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "_Don't_ tell them, either. I'm just telling you to look out for the girls since they would kill me if they knew I was telling you these things." In an almost dramatic fashion, Bebe walked over to the window, stared down at the street for a bit, and closed the blinds with narrowed eyes.

"Okay," she said. She closed her eyes. "Now… you already know that I like Kenny."

In his confusion, Butters nodded. He was rather proud of himself to have figured it out, since he had a dark feeling that years ago, he would have stayed oblivious. Butters rather thought he was still oblivious to a lot of things, even in seventh grade, but he didn't let it bother him too much.

"Did you… know that most of the other girls like him as well?"

"Not-not really."

Bebe pursed her lips. "Well, they do," she continued, "and they, like me, understand that the way to Kenny's heart is food."

Butters nodded. Then something occurred to him.

"Why'd… why'd you guys like him in the first place?"

"I was just getting to that," said Bebe crossly, though she really wasn't, having forgotten that one part. She tapped her knee, as if concentrating.

"Butters. Have you ever seen Kenny without his hood on?"

"With– without?" The boy blinked.

Ever since he could remember, Kenny McCormick had always been an orange parka to him. He knew there was a boy in there somewhere, but when he thought about it, he realized he never really had a mental image of what that boy might look like. In his dreams, Kenny was always covered everywhere with orange, besides his eyes, which Butters had never really looked at anyway.

He shook his head. Funny, his brain mused. _Kenny without his hood on…?_

"Well… I did. And so did the other girls."

Butters gaped. And gawked. And was generally quite surprised.

"Yeah," smiled Bebe. It was her first real smile that afternoon. A sort of wistfulness crept into her voice. "It's not like you think, though. It was a photograph of him." She leaned on her head with one arm, gazing at something that Butters couldn't see.

"Uh huh…"

"Yeah. Wendy took a picture of him unhooded and passed it around the girls."

Butters rubbed his hands together. "A-and?"

"_And. _He's really cute," said Bebe. She giggled.

"Right." Butters frowned, trying to imagine it, but failed.

"And now half the girls are obsessing over him," said Bebe, running a hand through curly hair. She sighed. "I know for a fact that Wendy and Red have already tried winning him over. They're amazing at cooking. And other things." She pursed her lips and huffed.

Butters was wringing his hands in thought. "Whu–what does it look like?"

"What?" Bebe frowned. "The picture?"

Butters nodded, staring at the floor.

"Well…in it, he's… he's playing with his little brother." The girl was starting to melt again. "And you can see his hair, and his face, and his eyes, and…" She closed her eyes, as if imagining it.

Butters felt like he was missing something. He rubbed his knuckles together.

"Yeah?" he questioned. It wasn't really a question, actually, just something to fill the silence that ensued. It was a very awkward silence, at least on his part. He twisted the fabric of his shirt.

"Yeah," Bebe agreed, and smiled again, this time directly at Butters. "It was a nice picture."

"Very nice," Butters agreed.

He had a feeling things were going to get more complicated than ever.

* * *

Kenny woke up with a throbbing pain in his head. _Crap, _he cursed. _Am I dead again? For fuck's sake, I didn't even have a full month. _

He stood up and stretched, groaning, when he realized that it was rather cool. No fire or brimstone anywhere. No luaus. No people at all, as a matter of fact. Instead, he was in a rather ordinary-looking living room, a rather unremarkable carpet on the floor and perfectly unassuming windows looking out onto the normal-looking street. South Park. He was still obviously in South Park. Which house, he didn't know, and he didn't care. Swinging his legs down to the ground, he was about to leave when steps pounded overhead. Kenny froze.

"Thanks for listening, Butters," a voice was saying. Kenny frowned. He knew that voice.

"Aw, it's okay, Bebe," responded another voice shyly. Kenny smirked beneath his hood. He definitely knew that one. His mind saw the blond looking down at the floor, arms behind his back, and blushing slightly.

_Heh_. What a pussy.

Footsteps were coming down now, and Kenny was unsure what to do. Should he run? Should he hide? Should he pretend unconsciousness? There was a sour taste in his mouth, and with a heave in his stomach, he remembered the cookies. The vile, disgusting fudge cookies.

Butters, he thought with a shudder, was terrible at baking. There was no trace of sweetness about the confectioneries at all, merely a bitter sort of sourness, as if salt had replaced sugar in its making.

"Yeah, and thanks for the offer, Butters; it was sweet," Bebe was saying. They were already coming down the steps, and it was only when Kenny let out a "Hey, what's up, guys, what am I doing here in here" that they noticed him.

"Gah!" The winter-clad boy had never seen Bebe's eyes widen that much. It would have been amusing to him, in normal circumstances, had she not chosen to hide behind Butters like a princess seeking cover from a monster. The kindhearted boy (he was quite kind, actually, beneath the dirty jokes and prankster temperament and general perversion) was flummoxed, and gazed at Butters with a kind of questioning stare.

"Uh. Hey, Kenny." The blond offered a shy smile, hands clasping themselves together in a sort of nervous dance. "You're prob'ly… um wondering why you're here. Well… I brought you here, after– after you fainted. Because… uh."

Kenny's gaze turned murderous.

"You tried to poison me with those cookies," he accused angrily, his words muffled through his jacket. Bebe bit her lip.

"H-huh? What?" Butters looked surprised. Kenny glared. "Oh, those-those cookies. Yeah. Um… well, I didn't really– I didn't really make them; it was…" Something jabbed him in the back. He turned, even more startled, and, in an injured tone, said, "What?"

Bebe glared at him. Not understanding, Butters turned back to face Kenny, who looked confused.

"What do you mean you didn't make them?"

Bebe tugged on Butter's shirt. He blinked, and then replied nervously, "Yeah. I didn't– I didn't make 'em. A– girl did." The tug grew more fretful, and Butters looked down.

Kenny tilted his head. "Really?" he said coolly. "Bebe, did you make them?"

"N-no!" retorted Bebe, hiding her blushing face behind Butters. Tongue-tied, she was tongue-tied again. She hated it. She hated him. She wanted to die. Butters looked alarmed.

"No– she didn't, her–" His eyes darted around the room. "–cousin did!"

Kenny stared steadily at the two of them. "Cousin?"

"Yeah, her cousin," explained Butters eagerly. "That's why I brought you here, in Bebe's house. Her cousin wanted to know how you liked 'em."

"But she left before you came," Bebe added softly. She'd gotten some of her voice back. "Her parents wanted her home."

"She really likes you," nodded Butters. "And–and she wanted to, um, make you something… er, really special."

_Huh. _"How does… she know me?" asked Kenny.

_Oh, geez. _Butters was spent. Making things up on the spot did not come easily to him. Luckily for him, Bebe chose that instance to jump in again.

"Um. I've been telling her, you know, about you, and she was kind of interested," stammered Bebe, stepping out from behind a frazzled Butters.

The orange-clad boy took a long hard look at her. She gave him a weak smile.

"Uh huh…"

"I'm sorry you didn't like her cookies, though," continued Bebe, her voice getting stronger. "She's kind of bad at making… food."

_Clearly. _"Is she hot?"

"Oh, yeah, she's really hot!" Butters burst out with a nervous giggle. Bebe glanced at him sharply.

"Hm…" muttered Kenny. He'd had initial doubts about the existence of this so-called cousin, but then cast them all aside in light of this new discovery. Hot, huh? Interesting.

"Yes," said Bebe rather apprehensively. Oh, great, just what she needed. Another girl, albeit fictional, for Kenny to be interested in. She felt like hitting Butters. "But she's _really _bad at cooking," she added quickly.

"How is she in bed?" Kenny mumbled through his hood. Bebe flushed at that. "Why should _that _matter?"

"Y-yeah, Kenny, why should that matter?" put in Butters, feeling like he should be contributing something to the conversation. "It doesn't really matter… how she sleeps, now, does it?"

Kenny snickered. Butters's naiveté often made him do that. "I guess it doesn't," he said innocently. "What's her name?"

"Um… Lau… rie…?"

"Laurie?"

The two of them nodded.

"Sounds hot," admitted Kenny. "Have you met her, Butters?"

"Wha– why, sure!"

Bebe prayed that he wouldn't mess this up.

"Yeah, me and her are real good friends, and she's the one who asked me to… to give you those cookies," Butters blabbered. "She said… she hoped you liked 'em."

"If she's good-looking…" said Kenny thoughtfully. He took a step closer.

"So… just how much does she like me?"

* * *

In the end, the two of them had Kenny utterly convinced that Bebe's cousin, Laurie, was quite in love with him, despite having never met him before, and that she was "pretty darn hot," as Butters had reiterated for the thousandth time to an intrigued Kenny. As far as Kenny knew, Laurie was fascinated by him through what Bebe had told her (when asked what sort of things she told her, Bebe said nervously, "Oh, I tell her things about everybody. She was particularly taken by the things I told her about you"), and so, by the end of the conversation, he had developed an unhealthy interest in the fictional girl.

"Do you have a picture of her?" he asked eagerly.

Bebe blanched. Then, somewhere in the back of her mind, something formed.

"Yes," she said carefully, "but I think it would be better.... if you met her yourself."

Butters looked quite alarmed, but she dug a hidden elbow sharply into him.

Kenny raised an eyebrow. "Really? So... a date?"

"She'll be delighted," said Bebe firmly, still keeping an elbow in.

They agreed on the date and the place, and, after another request for a photo and a staunch refusal, Kenny left.

The girl turned to Butters, a wicked light in her eyes.

"I have a plan, Butters," she declared, "and you're going to be a major part of it."

"Oh, Jesus," moaned the boy pitifully. He really didn't want to be a major part of anything right now. At Bebe's determined look, however, he hung his head.

* * *

I know-- major Bebe x Butters implications, non? Calm yourselves, this is still Kenny x Butters. Eventual Kenny x Butters.-giggles-

I'm just trying to keep them in character as much as possible. So yes. Butters is still dreadfully innocent and yet reluctant to get involved in a girl's plans, still having that little-kid mentality, while Kenny is very much… straight. Apparently so.


	3. Preparations

Sorry for the long update. School's being terrible to me. D:

* * *

"Nuh uh. I-I ain't doing it."

"Butters, please, don't you see? This is my only chance left to get Kenny!" Butters crossed his arms and attempted to look determined.

Bebe stared at him pleadingly. "_Please, _Butters. If you dress up as Laurie and act as repulsive and unsociable as possible, he'll _have _to stop being interested in her." She fell to her knees. "And if you tell him about what a great person I am, then he'll start being interested in _me!" _

"But that's-that's lyin'," said Butters. "Lyin' to a boy."

Bebe raised an eyebrow at him. "As opposed to lying to a girl?"

"Lying to a girl's… well, it's different!" blustered the boy. "Kenny'll see right through me. He'll know I'm not really a girl."

"I doubt that," scoffed Bebe. "Unless he's seen you in drag before."

Butters shuffled his feet awkwardly.

"And you _were_ the one who came up with the whole 'cousin' thing," she remarked coolly. When he blanched, she reached out to catch his hand. "Come on, Butters. Do this for me?"

The boy didn't want to point out that she'd only started paying attention to him yesterday. He sighed.

"I-I still don't see why you can't do this… um, yourself."

"Well, obviously, I'll have to be there when Kenny picks you– I mean, _Laurie_– up at my house," explained Bebe in a somewhat patronizing tone, as if she were talking to a three-year old. "And besides, I think it'll work better if someone other than myself is Laurie. It's kind of weird to pretend to be another person and then talk about yourself, you know?"

"I guess so," sighed Butters.

"And also, I think I should be around to monitor your–ahem– date," continued Bebe with a wave of her hands. "You'll be wearing an earphone, of course, so I can tell you what to say– it's been done before so many times, I know, but it works– and I'll have video cameras set up strategically around and in the theater you'll be going." She had started to pace, a hard, grim look on her face. Butters felt frightened.

"But– I still haven't agreed to do it yet!" he argued. Bebe turned on him, her eyes harsh and determined. She pulled him close by his collar, and her voice was a fierce whisper.

"Now that I have a chance, I will do _anything _to get him, Butters, so if you don't want your intestines inside your body, I think you should do. What. I. Say. Or _else_."

"Or– or else what?" he stammered.

She let go and smiled. "Exactly."

A moment passed. The boy's tiny shoulders slumped in defeat.

"But Laurie's supposed– supposed to be pretty," Butters muttered in a weak attempt to reason with her. "Me in a dress won't really… be all that…"

At this, Bebe gave him a critical once-over.

"Mm, you might be surprised," she said quietly. It disturbed Butters more than anything. His discomfort must have shown on is face, for Bebe laughed.

"You're not bad-looking, Butters," she giggled. "I think you'll make a decent girl. You're thin and not too tall, and you're actually kind of… cute."

"Cute" perfectly described the twelve-year old boy's large blue eyes, golden hair, and rather round face, still childlike in its structure. He could perfectly pass for a much younger child or, in this case, a child of the opposite sex. Butters pinched his cheeks in a quizzical manner. "Th-thanks. I guess."

Bebe chuckled as they neared her room.

* * *

An overlong white tunic. Dark flared jeans. Short ankle boots. And really not much else. What they needed now was a wig to complete the picture, which, according to Bebe, looked somehow wrong with Butters's long-ish crew cut.

"Aw, but I like my hair," Butters said pitifully.

Bebe rolled her eyes. "The hair ruins it. You look like a girl," she observed, "just a really boyish one– you know, the kind who enjoys playing sports and getting dirty and totally ruining her hair like that. And besides, he'll totally recognize you without a wig."

Butters looked sadly down at his shoes.

His companion cast a look at him and sighed.

Privately, she was quite surprised when Butters had stepped out from her closet. The jeans– which she'd picked since they never looked right on her– fitted him perfectly, his legs long and thin and– she thought with slight envy– exactly the way she'd wanted her legs to be in those jeans. She didn't want him wearing a skirt or a dress, seeing as even though Butters was quite effeminate, he was still a boy, and his legs were covered with light, tawny, unshaved hair. With amusement, she wondered if she could convinced him to shave. With even more amusement, she wondered how he would react to waxing.

And the long tunic shirt she'd picked for him – meant to mask the lack of breasts, since Butters did not want to wear a bra, stuffed or otherwise– somehow fit the boy's wide eyes and thin figure. It was an innocent shirt, and he was an innocent boy. One lent to the other a sort of glow, and, as Bebe looked him over, she felt rather jealous. With the right wig, he would definitely look the part of a hot girl.

But. There was one more thing.

"Your voice," Bebe said, crossing her arms and tapping her foot against the floor. "Do something about it."

The blond in drag looked surprised. "What d'you mean, my voice?"

"It's way too recognizable. Can't you change it or something? Make it more high-pitched?"

"Like this?" And he let out a long, twitchy screech that was supposed to be "Is this high enough?" Bebe winced.

"Never mind." She looked at him. "Can't you… remove the accent or something?"

"Whuh– what accent?" He tilted his head at her in confusion, and she had to laugh. Really.

"Um, just try and talk like me. Don't stutter or anything."

He raised his eyebrows at the challenge. "Talk like you?" Then the blond smiled. "Like– like this?"

Bebe pinched her nose. It was going to be a long night.

* * *

They decided to forego the earpiece and cameras as, according to Bebe, there "would be interference, anyway." Somewhere in the back of his easily impressionable twelve-year old mind, Butters was quite sure she had just been bluffing him, but he decided to go along with it. Instead of technological surveillance, Bebe handed him, with a solemn air, a cell phone.

"So you can call me if you run into trouble, or run out of good things to say about me, okay?" she said sweetly. Butters nodded, staring at the silver rectangle in his hand.

And they found the perfect wig for him on eBay, which they picked up from a stranger in a parking lot.

* * *

"Hey, Kenny."

"Hi, Kyle." The orange-clad boy balanced a pencil on the tip of his finger. It wobbled a bit and then fell. He sighed.

"Pencils can't really balance that well, you know," remarked Kyle, taking a seat beside his friend, who presently rolled his eyes.

"I know that." He squinted down at the pencil. "It's because of that I'm doing it. Because it's pointless."

Kyle, shuffling his books, chuckled absentmindedly. Twirling the pencil in his hand, Kenny gave him a suspicious stare.

"Okay, so what's the deal?"

"What?" The redhead opened a book and stared into it determinedly.

"You seem really depressed today," observed Kenny with the air of one commenting on the weather. He wrote random words in the air, mostly various swearwords and a few choice insults.

Kyle gave a noncommittal shrug.

"Hm………….tell me, anything to do with Cartman?"

Kyle's eye twitched, and he growled, "That fatass? I wish."

Kenny raised both eyebrows. "Huh," he said, "this must be bad." Scooting his chair closer, the boy smirked.

"Anything to do with Staaan, perhaps?"

And as he predicted, Kyle let out an irritated huff and turned away, staring determinedly at a far-off bookshelf. Kenny felt himself smile.

"Come on, what's wrong?"

"He's…" Kyle's voice was soft, growing stronger as he talked on. "He and I were supposed to go see a movie the other day, and I was supposed to wait for him at the theater. But…"

"He didn't show up?" guessed Kenny, and almost flinched when he saw the murderous look on his friend's face.

"_No," _muttered Kyle, "and when I went over to his house to see what was wrong, his mom opened the door and told me that Stan was with his 'little girlfriend'–"

"Wendy?" Kenny frowned. "That's weird."

"_Yes, _and apparently he was over at her house for something or other. I thought of going over there, but." His shoulders slumped. "Stan's an ass."

Kenny raised an eyebrow at the Jew.

"It's not such a big deal, you know. So he skipped out on you for Wendy." Shaking his head, he twirled his pencil. "I thought you'd have understood."

The redhead slammed a fist down on the table. "I _did _understand! The first time he did that I understood, and everything was cool between us until he did it again!"

"Okay, dude, calm down," whispered Kenny, putting a hand on his friend's arm. People were staring at them, and the librarian was sending poisonous glares. "How many times–?"

"Four," Kyle muttered dully. "This is the fourth time he's done it."

"Ouch."

"Yeah." He slumped. Kenny felt a pang of pity. "Why… don't we go outside?" he suggested. "I think you need some fresh air."

"It's fine," sighed Kyle. It clearly wasn't, but he let the matter drop when Kyle asked him curiously what he was doing in the library anyway.

"I'm supposed to be doing research on Asian culture," Kenny said with a shrug.

Kyle looked surprised. "That's what I'm doing too," he remarked. "But isn't that supposed to be–?"

"A group project? Yeah. My partner's Wendy, and I'm just waiting for her."

The redhead looked incredulous. "Wendy?" The two were in separate classes, which followed similar curriculums with minor differences. "Isn't Stan in your class?"

"I think Stan was absent that day." Kenny looked up at the ceiling. "She just went and asked if I could be her partner." He gave a not-entirely innocent snicker. "I think she has the hots for me."

Kyle rolled his eyes. "So she gave you some cake. She gave some to Stan as well, if I remember correctly."

"Brownies," corrected Kenny. "She gave them to me first, thus proving that _I _was her priority." His friend looked skeptical at that, and Kenny grinned. "And they were delicious." He tapped the pencil against the table and purred, "Though wouldn't it be convenient if she _does _have a crush on me? Then you can spend all day with your darling Stan."

"Shut _up!" _Kyle hissed, blushing a brilliant shade of red. Kenny laughed, then turned sober as he examined one of Kyle's books.

"That's why it was weird that she was with Stan the other day. We were supposed to be doing research here that day, and she told me that she couldn't because her aunt was coming over, and her parents wanted her there to greet her." He twirled his pencil.

"So she lied to you."

"Apparently so." He shrugged. "I don't know why she would lie to me about that. I don't care if she was going to be with Stan instead of doing research for a project we'd done for almost every grade. Frankly, _I'd _rather be with Stan instead of doing research." He smirked, and Kyle promptly punched him in the arm, grinning.

"So who's your partner?"

"Butters," said Kyle with a minute bit of disdain. "I told him that I can do the research, and he can write the report." The Jew chuckled. "He's a good student and all, just…"

"Geeky," nodded Kenny. The two laughed.

"Speaking of Butters, you know what happened to me yesterday?" And Kyle listened in curiosity that eventually developed into natural doubt as Kenny declared, with complete sureness, that he had a date with Bebe's hot cousin.

"Dude. You know they could be lying, right?"

"Who cares?" said Kenny, words muffled through his hood. "Her name's Laurie, by the way."

"No, I mean–" Kyle stopped and sighed. "Never mind."

At which point Wendy walked in, followed by a seemingly irritated Red.

* * *

So... yes. I feel there should be a 'DUN DUN DUN' inserted in here somewhere.

And I hope you enjoyed Kyle's appearance in here. xD His Stan-related troubles aren't going to get any better... maybe.


End file.
